The Evil Overlord List: An Applied Perspective
by SleepDeprivedFemale
Summary: The Evil Overlord List liberally applied to the HMS Universe in a loosely-connected drabble format. Some will be funny, some will (hopefully) give you feels.
1. Rule 5

**Rule 5: The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness** _._

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 **Rule 5**

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Emilia nearly jumped when her phone buzzed with a familiar number shown on the screen.

The Hero dropped everything she was doing -aka the dishes- and accepted the call, her brow lined in worry. "Emeralda?"

"Hi Emilia," came the young magician's frail voice. "I'm not calling in a bad time, am I? By my calculations it should be about noon in your place…"

The Hero shook her head, before blushing at the realization that Emeralda couldn't actually see her. She still had some issues with the advanced technology of this world. "No, you're right on your estimation." She sat on her small couch. "So, what did you call me about?"

"Well," Emeralda began, "before we left for Ente Isla, Aldabert and I did some background research on Satan and his resources on Earth. It took some time to go through all the data we got, and we found something you need to know…"

At this, Emily stood up straight, clenching her jaw. "What did you find?"

"The Overlord has stashed part of his probably sparse belongings in a very secure location. We do not know what they actually contain, it could be funds, castle plans or even a strategy for future invasions…"

"Where are they?" the Hero asked in urgency, her mind reeling with all the potential hiding places of this world. "I've read this world has an underwater chasm, the Marianna Trench. Alternatively, he could have out it in the summit of Mt Everest-"

"It's in a fortress…"

"A castle of old?" Emilia cut the sorceress off, her voice strained. "Fortified with ancient spells and labyrinthine hallways?" she continued with increasing dread. "There _is_ a Great Wall in a large neighboring nation…"

"Ah, not quite. It is an old institution, one of many dedicated to keeping people's possessions secure. The country it's located in specializes in such institutions…" A crunching noise from the receiver indicated Emeralda was munching on one of her many snacks. "As a result, it's quite wealthy. It is built like a fortress, surrounded by mountains and with citizens armed like militia…"

The Hero frowned at the information. "Wait a second." The institution sounded like a bank, and the rest of the supposed featured sounded an awful like…

The clues came together like a puzzle of abstract art.

 _"_ _How on Heaven did he even get a Swiss bank account?!"_

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 **Hello! I hope you enjoy these mini-works. Rules will be out of order and updates will be erratic, but I'll do my best to complete it (eventually).**

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	2. Rule 7

**Rule 7: When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought I'll shoot him then say "No."**

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 **Rule 7**

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As his vision faded, Maou heard Lucifer's laugh through ears no longer beating with a pulse. Before his conscience faded, the demon barely heard the beginnings of a manic rant while the streets filled with the screams of terrified humans.

Maou's last line of thought was a victorious laugh. He had already won.

Lucifer was a dumbass. With his tendency to monologue while creepily staring with is opponents, it was a miracle the fallen angel had cornered them in the first place. Maou wondered if that was how the Hero had taken him down, probably luring the fallen angel into a false sense of security before cutting him down. The demon had no idea where these gloating habits stemmed from. It could be that Lucifer was simply a smug bastard. Or, if Maou wanted to think empathetically, it could be a defense mechanism to come to terms with his… unsavory standing among Heaven and Hell.

When Maou first traveled to the lair of the Fallen Angel, where demons more powerful than him had perished, he was scared. He had heard the rumors of a powerful being who hated being disturbed and could rival the demons in cruelty and malice. He did not doubt them, but at the time Satan was a stubborn young demon in desperate need of support.

When the Fallen Angel appeared out of nowhere, large black wings hiding the sun from view, and grabbed the budding young demon in the neck Satan had to keep himself from hyperventilating. After all, he had to be quick and share his plan with Lucifer before the being strangled him slowly and painfully.

Satan left out his plans of restoring the Demon Kingdom to its former glory and establishing a better society for demons; he doubted the Fallen Angel cared. Instead, he focused on his plans of seizing human lands, his vision of a future where the humans would learn their place and that they could eventually challenge Heaven itself for their unfair state of affairs.

Lucifer had agreed and an alliance formed among them. Though one of his four Generals, Maou had no idea of Lucifer's true opinion of him. For all of the angel's faults, none could penetrate his projected aura of apathy.

Needless to say, the last few months had been very illuminating to the Demon King and caused him to reevaluate most of his opinions on humanity. Not so much when it came to Heaven.

In the end though, none of it mattered. Maou still felt demonic magic course through him, pass over his skin like a barely-restrained current and restore the beatings of his heart.

Time to take his _revenge_.

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	3. Rule 24

**Rule 24: I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, This Cannot Be! I AM INVINCIBLE!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)**

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 **Rule 24**

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When Chiho visited the overlord's apartment, she did not expect to see an apron-clad Demon General looming over a pale and mildly-annoyed Demon Lord.

"Ashiya…" Maou moaned, giving a resigned look to the other demon. He was propped up on his elbows, a thick duvet wrapped around him with a warm water bottle on his side.

"No buts milord!" Alciel protested, placing a few pillows where Maou's head would be if he laid down. You have to rest!"

"What's going on…?" Chiho hesitantly asked. She had come by the apartment because Maou hadn't come to work and she was worried sick for the devil, despite knowing how ridiculous this sounded.

"Oh, heya Chi~!" Maou said with a small wave.

"No waving milord, you mustn't expend energy-!"

"Satan has a cold so we're on high alert," came Lucifer's voice from the built-in wardrobe. "Wouldn't want our primary source of income to die."

"I'm your only source of income, you lazy little prick," Maou mumbled. "And Ashiya stop mothering me, I already took antibiotics-!"

"Why is Urushihara in the wardrobe…?" Chiho asked.

"Lucifer is in quarantine!" Ashiya glared at the wardrobe. "He must have been the one who got milord weak!"

"I did not-"

Ashiya gave a scandalized look to the wardrobe. "You had a cold a week ago and sneezed all over the furniture!"

While the two demons continued squabbling, Chiho let out a small sigh. At least this time the problem didn't seem to be Ente Isla related. Maou apparently shared her sentiment and laid back down, covering his face with his arm. Chiho gave him a sympathetic look, remembering her mother fussing over her health when she was younger.

"Um, Ashiya," the girl politely addressed the elder demon, causing him to stop his argument with Lucifer. "Maybe you're overdoing it? People don't really die of cold..."

Maou gave Alciel a big grin. "Told ya it's not a big deal."

Alciel narrowed his eyes at Maou. "You know very well why I worry." Upon receiving no response, Alciel picked up the warm water bottle. "Excuse me, I need to refill this," he said and headed the kitchen counter where he filled it with the kettle's boiling water.

Chiho stared at the blond demon as she sat on the floor next to Maou. "Ashiya's really worried about you."

"I'm… not the healthiest demon around," Maou admitted and looked away. "There were a couple of close calls back at our world, so Alciel's a bit paranoid when it comes to these things."

"I can hear you gossiping," Alciel muttered.

Chiho frowned. "But your demon form is…"

"Big? Muscled?" Maou let out a sardonic smirk which made Chiho's heart flutter. "Health ain't skin deep, unfortunately," he grumbled. "Funnily enough, my human form is more representative of me than you'd think."

"Enough talking milord," Alciel said, placing the now-refilled warm water bottle at Maou's side. "You have to stay in bed."

"Yes _mom_."

"Don't take that tone with me, milord-"

Now that Chiho thought about it… Satan was rather scrawny as a human. Of the three demons, Alciel and Lucifer didn't change much when compared to their demon forms. In contrast, the Demon Lord turned from a massive 2-meter+ tall hunk of muscles -a hot one at that- into a diminutive youngster.

Upon taking a closer look, Chiho noticed how Maou's skin was clammy and pale, as well as the dark circled under his eyes. His breaths were also loud and shallow… Maybe Alciel had a point in worrying.

Though that left her with an idea…

"Um, Maou…" Chiho hesitantly began, attracting the two demons' attention. "Ca-can I-I…?" She paused and swallowed, her face flushed. _"Can I feed you chicken soup?!"_ She yelled and then immediately regretted it. Oh, it sounded so _desperate_ -!

Maou and Ashiya looked at each other in confusion.

"Chicken soup...?" Maou asked.

 _"_ _It's good for the soul!"_ Chiho quickly said, stumbling over her words. "M-Mom makes it for me when I'm sick and fed it to me when I was younger, it's a nice soup though maybe a bit too salty for me, but mom always makes the food too salty and dad jokes she'll give him a heart condition-"

"Then of course!" Alciel said, cutting off Chiho's mini-rant. "Feed him all the chicken soup he can eat!"

"Seriously you two…"

"C-C-Can I feed you the soup…?" Chiho asked with a trembling voice, already mentally making a list of all the ingredient she would need.

Maou shrugged. "Sure."

Chiho's knees went weak.

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	4. Rule 1

**Rule 1: My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones.**

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 **Rule 1**

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Emilia has done her fair share of killing as the Hero. She had lost count of how many demons she had slain, how many lives were taken by her sword. The Hero had justified her training as 'slaying evil', as protecting her Kingdom and the people in it.

This reasoning did not help when she had to take down her first demon.

He was a lowly foot soldier of the Salamander Clan. The soldier was low in hierarchy, both in the Overlord's army and within the Demon society. They were nothing. Their life wouldn't even be a footnote in the war, because they were but an insignificant demon in a small insignificant skirmish.

The eyes full of fear are what got to her and she hesitated. Her sword trembled, and she was aware of all the eyes around her, some of her compatriots eyeing the injured demon with glee.

"Emilia." An old calloused hand gently grasped her shoulder.

The distraught Hero turned to see Olba standing next to her, giving her an encouraging smile. "Why are you hesitating? This demon was heading to the village, no doubt planning to loot and kill humans here." He looked down on the fallen demon, his face briefly breaking into a disgusted grimace which went unnoticed by the Hero. "With every demon you kill, you save a human life. You save someone's family."

This is what got to her. This is what motivated her to finally bring the sword down and watch the demon's life drain away in a thick red liquid.

She had trained herself to never see the faces of the demons she killed from that point. To look away from their unguarded faces, from those too-human eyes, with too-human emotions.

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	5. Rule 29

**Rule 29: I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.**

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 **Rule 29**

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"What's this?"

"An outfit milord, designed after your specifications."

"That's…" Satan grimaced as he looked over the garment. It was basically a bunch of strings loosely held together. "It barely counts as underwear." He looked down on himself to confirm his suspicions.

Yup, it would barely cover anything. It was a wardrobe failure waiting to happen. There were so many ways it could happen as well; one of the strings could detach from the rest of the… structure -if you could call it that- something could easily slip out of place, not to mention how the colour of the strings matched his fur and would blend in with its surroundings.

"I don't see the issue milord," the demon general replied with a blank look.

Satan gave the other demon a long look. "Alciel, I want to confuse my enemies, not arouse them." At least, he didn't expect to have to anymore. He had underlings to do that for him now.

"I, well…" Alciel stuttered as he inspected the outfit which he was holding in one hand. He apparently had a revelation, as he grimaced at the sorry excuse of what could be considered cover and gave the Demon King an apologetic look. "That's a valid point, milord."

"Let me guess, Sodom and Gomorrah made this?" Satan asked, referring to the succubus and incubus in charge of espionage.

"Yes, I thought it was best if I consult them, since appearances are their area of expertise…"

Satan sighed. "Figures. I remember their coronation gift,"' the King mumbled as his cheeks turned a faint shade of red. "Anyways, I'd rather not fight half-nude. Any other recommendations? Please make sure to include actual armor," Satan added the last part as an afterthought.

"As you wish." Alciel agreed. "In that case, would milord be interested in bright pink battle armor?"

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	6. Rule 11

**Rule 11: I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.**

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 **Rule 11**

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There was the sound of crinkling parchment as steps echoed the empty walls of the Demon King Castle. Moonlight reflected off a broken glass pane as two figures stepped into view, a tall bearded man suspiciously eyeing each corner and a shorter stout man with a bowl-cut whose face was buried in a parchment.

The bearded man stopped and narrowed his eyes at a dark corner of the Castle, while the stout man walked ahead, muttering to himself. "I'm think it's this way..."

"Don't rush off, idiot!" The second voice said, grabbing his companion and dragging him back. "I've had already lost too many people in this damned castle. Read the instructions."

With a sigh, the short man looked back at his parchment. "Are we sure this is correct?"

"Straight from the horse's mouth," the tall man said with a click of his mouth. "You're lucky my brother's in the Church Garrison and he passed me the cypher instead of giving it to his superiors. Now read it!"

"Fine. So from where we are… _'To find the treasure, go fifty steps west then turn north. Tap your legs and you will fulfil your destiny'_." The stout man looked up from the parchment to an ominous narrow hallway. "Uh…"

"Just fifty steps?!" The tall man said with a whoop. "We'll be rich!"

The short man let out a hum. "I don't know…"

"Don't be a coward," the taller man grunted. "Time to start taking back from this damned place."

"Didn't get this info from a captured demon? Aren't they like supposed to be very untrustworthy-?"

"Yeah, but that one wanted to live and thought it would." The tall man let out a sardonic smirk. "Needless to say it didn't."

The stout man dispassionately looked back at the parchment. "Still…"

"Come on, you know how these things are," the tall man dismissively said. "These demons are too arrogant for their own good. Probably wanted to tease us with these things thinking we'd died in the process." His eyes darkened. "But we'll show them. We'll show these bastards what we can do."

"By stealing?" The stout man shot back boriedly. "Why would the Devil King give his minions riddles about his Castle in the first place? Wasn't it like, his for a while?"

"Who cares why that dead bastard did what he did? He's gone now, so we might as well snag what we can before the Church wrecks this place."

With no further ado the two men walked across the empty hallway, silently counting each step. Finally, they stopped just before the hallway turned, facing a massive crumbling wall.

The stout man rolled up the parchment, while the taller man gulped, his gaze transfixed to the floor. "This is it." He raised his leg, heart pounding against his eardrums. "Finally…" he stomped his leg against the floor, "time to start taking back from this hellish place."

The ground below them opened with a groan. In the pale moonlight, the last thing the two men saw were rows upon rows of bloody spikes already lined with impaled bodies of past adventurers.

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	7. Rule 6

**Rule 6: I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.**

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 **Rule 6**

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Satan Jacob liked to tease his opponents. He liked to think he had a natural wit and found frustration hilarious. Not to mention, if he did successfully troll his opponent, they were more likely to make an error, a misstep that he could use as an advantage to turn the tables.

Thing was, Satan liked gloating. He had worked hard to train his body and mind, spending countless days in intensive physical regiments and just as many nights learning archaic spells and powerful magic. He didn't see any issue in taking pride in his hard work; quite the opposite, it was funny seeing his opponents trying to take him down with simple techniques like a child throwing a tantrum. Of course he was going to mock that, he had every right to.

Problem was, witty remarks occupied brainpower that could be better used analysing his opponents' movements and strategy, so it was a give-and-take situation.

Satan's general M.O. was assess whether their opponent was an actual threat of not and then proceed with appropriate levels of snark. In most cases, he made liberal use of wit and sarcasm. In the rare cases he didn't…

The first fight he had taken seriously, sans the one with the Hero that caused him to retreat to Japan, was with one of the independent Commanders, one rumored to be amongst the most powerful demons in the region. It was the first time he could test the full extent of his powers, without fearing he would hurt a companion. It was the first time he was fighting an opponent in his league. There was only so much he could use against a fight with a small-fry mercenary demon group.

When he eventually caused the Commander to stumble, Satan didn't boast. He didn't tease. He just ripped the demon's head off and bathed in the blood.

A part of him wished to never do that again.

He didn't think he could bear the sight of a severed pink-haired head.

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	8. Rule 12

**Rule 12: One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.**

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 **Rule 12**

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Maou slammed down the key element to his plan on the table. "…And that's how we get them!"

The Devil King let out a dark chuckle one that he hoped would reverberate through the constricted walls of his new Castle as it did through the stone walls of his old one.

It didn't.

Alciel placed a hand on his chin, looking at the floor in thought. "This is a truly unconventional and evil plan milord…"

Mau crossed his hands and let out another dark chuckle.

Lucifer looked up from his laptop and gave the duo a blank look before looking at the object on the table. "Bananas?"

The trio, or more accurately duo, were trying to come up with ways to repel Gabriel and foil his plan. The Ente Isla angel had arrived at their house early morning, made a giant hole in the wall and let them all in various states of shock only to say that he would come back a day after to finally complete his abhorrent plan and re-acquisition what he saw as his.

Said acquisition was crawling on the floor, occasionally rolling on it with a happy squeal. Alas=Ramus let out a happy giggle as, at the end of one of her rolls, she ended up right by Maou's leg and clutched at his jeans. "Aaa…"

"There you awe my witwwe baby…" Carefully and gently, Maou picked up the toddler.

"Papa!" Alas=Ramus shifted at his embrace, before finally lacing her head on his chest, closed her eyes and let out a silent yawn.

 _Aw_.

"Oh ye of little faith," Maou whispered to Lucifer, careful not to disturb the napping Alas=Ramus. "This fruit is apparently a hazard! I see it on all the shows." He gestured behind him, to where the hazardous set of stairs lay outside. "We lay enough of them at the base and at top of the stairs and the new castle will be impenetrable!"

"And since Gabriel is not aware of their slippery properties, he will not know what to expect," Alciel continued in a low voice as well. "Using this new world flora again him! Truly a genius plan milord!"

Maou gave Alciel a grin. "I know!"

"What if he crashed through the wall?" Lucifer asked, not bothering to whisper.

Maou shushed Lucifer, before rolling his eyes as if the answer the obvious. "Then we put more bananas on the wall. Not only will that disorient him, it will also block us from view and maybe even the magic will slip away as well."

To be perfectly honest, Maou wasn't sure if the latter part was true, but he dearly hoped it was. They were running out of options.

Lucifer between the hole in the wall and Maou. Eventually his gaze landed on the banana on the table and he narrowed his eyes at the fruit. "Hm…"

Maou was about to chuckle again, one that in the old days would sent the bravest human generals scouring for cover, until he realized he had Alas=Ramus sleeping on his chest. Doing so would only cause vibration and wake her up. "See, my minion?" he said to Alciel. "Even the unfaithful are convinced."

A jolt at his chest caused to see Alas=Ramus rubbing her eyes. Oh no, had Maou woken her up?

Hand in her mouth, Alas=Ramus looked at Maou, then at the banana.

"Ah, curious of the object of our enemy's demise, aren't you?" Lifting her up so she was at eye level with him, Maou got the banana and held it close to her. "Tell me, what do you think of this plan? Ingenious, isn't it?"

Alas=Ramus reached out at the fruit, her mouth forming an inquisitive 'o'.

She poked at the banana peel. Its yellowed flesh slightly gave way at the toddler's touch.

"Aha! Confirmation of my-"

Alas=Ramus then grabbed up the banana out of Maou's hand, waved it around like a flag while giggling and eventually threw it away. It landed with a dull thud by the edge of the table.

"plan…"

The room fell silent save for Alas=Ramus' giggle.

"Can't Gabriel just do that?" Lucifer asked.

Maou gulped. Of course! Just pick up the peel and throw it away! How hadn't he considered something so simple?!

Alciel looked between the discarded banana and Maou's rapidly falling expression with concern. "I don't suppose we can glue them in place?"

"But that would only nullify their slipping capabilities," Maou replied in a flat tone.

Silence descended upon the tiny apartment once again.

"I guess we need a new plan then…" Alciel eventually said.

Maou closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. The truth was they had no other plans. Every single one they came up with either they couldn't implement in time or just simply didn't' have enough magic for it. Emily, Chico and Bell said they'd try to come up with plans on their won as well, but so far, there had been nothing.

Did that mean… there was no way to stop Gabriel from raking Alas=Ramus away…?

Alas=Ramus blinked before her tiny hand out to Maou's hair and gave it a tug.

As if coming back to life, Maou opened his eyes and lifted Alas=Ramus high and then back down at his eye level, the toddler squealing in delight. "You've barely been here a day with us and you're already a brilliant strategist!"

And by whatever forces governed their world, whether it be Gods, chance, or something else entirely, Maou would not let her go.

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	9. Rule 38

**Rule 38: If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them killed immediately, instead of waiting for them to grow up harbouring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.**

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 **Rule 38**

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Lucifer killed indiscriminately. Soldiers, single parents, children. No one who was in the path of the Fallen angel lived to tell the tale. Their villages, their homes, their livelihoods and themselves, were all burned down and purged from existence.

Some would call the fallen angel cruel. Lucifer called himself realistic. He knew too well of the hidden powers those that seemed weak often harboured. Letting anyone live while he killed their family would be increasing the possibility of a 'hero' rising and wiping them all. Wars weren't won by being nice, after all.

When rumours spoke of a small human village the Church had taken interest in, where supposedly a young but deadly foe could potentially rise up and defeat the Demon's Lord armies, Lucifer made sure to burn it down along with everyone in it.

Lucifer wasn't one to take chances.

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	10. Rule 2

**Rule 2: My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.**

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 **Rule 2**

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"How will we enter his Castle?" Emilia asked, leaning against the table on the makeshift tent in the main camp.

"Well, don't castles like that have deep catacombs and the like?" The young Sorceress asked. "Maybe we could swing in through there?"

The man in the group shook his head. "From what we know, the Demon Lord's castle dungeons are small in size and located at the centre of the castle." He frowned as he looked over the rough schematics their recon units had obtained about the building they wanted to break in. "Not to mention all the traps what could be sprung as we make our way to the throne room…"

"If we can't enter from there, how on Ente Isla are we gonna get in?" Emilia asked in frustration. Trust the Demon King to run their plans for a decisive victory.

Emeralda gave pause as she looked over a folded parchment. "…The Church is considering a direct offensive."

"But that means…"

"That's up for the Church to decide," Albert conceded, folding his arms. "I don't like this any more than you do."

Emilia clutched her palms in a flair of anger. "I'll kill the Devil."

"Emilia?"

"To stop all those soldiers from dying… I have to end this quickly."

Emeralda frowned as she glanced over to Albert. "We'll help you as much as we can," she said in a low voice.

Emilia gave the two a wide smile. It wouldn't ease the guilt, but it helped strengthen her resolve.

Eventually, the Human Kingdom won, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. Of those who fought, barely any made it through the initial onslaught to tell their tales. Most were permanently injured, left to take care of their own until they faded away from public perception.

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	11. Rule 8

**Rule 8: After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks' time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.**

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 **Rule 8**

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Emilia tapped her foot absent-mindedly, alone in the Demon King's castle. The young Hero bit her lip while she at nothing in particular, her hands clutching the long swathes of fabric on her legs.

Her surroundings were unfamiliar. Unlike the small farm house or impressive church cathedrals, this place was rougher, a cyclopean architecture that oozed with power. She supposed it was a fitting building for the Demon society.

Muffled voices came from one of the many passageways, one of them being familiar. They were followed by footsteps and soon enough a particular black-haired demon with a cut horn was in her line of sight.

When the brunette demon noticed the Hero, he quickly ended his conversation and casually walked towards her. "Emi!"

"Satan," Emilia responded, her tone reserved. As the Demon King came closer, she took note of his appearance.

The Demon King had foregone the armor on his legs, opting for breeches that cut off around the knees and were heavily layered with skirt-like garments above it. His torso was covered in even more fabric, colorful garments complementing each other in, red being the primary color. Coins were weaved into a long necklace, while his horns were adorned with jewelry chains made of glinting beads and the occasional gemstone.

He looked… impressive. Every part like the King he was.

Then Satan gave her a big goofy smile, breaking that regal illusion. "I just talked with Alciel, we're done with the preparations, so we can begin!"

Her chest tightened. "Already?"

The demon enthusiastically nodded. "Our attack will be swift and unseen. They won't have time to stop us!"

"Yeah," Emilia responded unenthusiastically.

Satan nodded to himself. "We have to do this quietly and quickly and uh…" he paused, seeing the Hero's balled fists. "Uh, you alright-?"

"I'm fine!" Emilia snapped. "This is important and whatever!" _In more ways than one._

It was a political move and she knew it. They both had agreed to it. A way to unite both demons and humans against their common enemy…

It didn't help much.

"You don't really look fine…" Satan scratched his head, looking over the Hero's hunching posture. "Second thoughts?"

"No, I just-" Emilia cut herself off, looking away and biting her nails. "I want this to be done properly. I don't want it to be a rush job."

"We don't really have much of a choice you know…" Satan grimaced and brought his hands to his hips. "If this leaks, both sides will be against it."

Emilia groaned in frustration. "You're right… This will be a step in uniting the two races and all that, assuming our narrative doesn't fall apart. But I want it to be done correctly, not be a half-assed job!"

The half-angel looked down on herself, on the white dress she was wearing, as was her people's tradition. The white dress had elaborate lacy designs and even as few white feathers as extra decoration. Bracelets made from old coins and other charms clinked as they moved with her wrists, traditionally worn to bring luck and prosperity…

"It's our wedding, after all."

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	12. Rule 4

**Rule 4: Shooting is not too good for my enemies.**

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 **Rule 4**

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Olba thought this new world would be nothing but trouble. Heathens living in dark ages, anarchy reigning supreme with demons having taken over humanity as the blasphemous denizens never asked from protection from the Powers that were greater than them.

He was proven wrong. This new world was _fascinating_ , in ways the Church wouldn't openly approve.

There were so many ways to kill. So many ways to end a life. Instead of having to twist a sword or chant a complex and draining invocation, all one had to do was pull a trigger and a life was taken.

It felt… empowering.

Honestly, after they finished off with the demon King, Olba would like to study more about the warfare of this new world. The power to rain Death from the skies like a vengeful deity was too tantalizing to overlook. He had already looked up bombs, tanks, aircrafts and their destructive power that rivalled spells only the most advanced of sorcerers could cast.

Not to mention all those hints he had been getting of a destructive type of bomb that could level cities and decimate entire populations. A weapon that utilized the ancestral forces of this Universe, one that killed anything in its path and even the survivors would die by their body revolting against them. A weapon that rendered the very Earth it touched uninhabitable for normal beings and instead only spawned short-lived monstrosities. One that could potentially render an entire world uninhabitable. Ultimate power, one that could be activated by the touch of the button and didn't involve dealing with snot-nosed annoying brats, like the Hero or that young assassin under his care. Oh, the ways he could use that power…

Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself. He had a Demon King to shoot, or rather, 'bust a cap on' as Lucifer had informed him was the proper way to express oneself in this new word.

Olba smiled.

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 **Feedback is appreciated.**


	13. Rule 13

**(Edginess: The Chapter. Warnings for Blood and Gore. AU.)**

 **Rule 13: All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.**

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 **Rule 13**

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This wasn't an execution.

It was cold-hearted torture. Slow, cruel and methodical.

They cut every part of the Demon Lord which frightened them, which reminded them of his demonic nature. If he wasn't in so much pain, Satan would have probably found it pathetically hilarious.

They would tear off his nails and engulf the naked skin of the fingertips into buckets of alcohol. His ears were long cut off, the only thing remaining of them being torn pieces of flesh roughly held together by damaged sinew and collapsed cartilage. They poured acid over his eyes to blind him. They were successful, but their red hint stubbornly remained, the glassy look now appearing even more menacing even if directed to no one in particular.

They broke his remaining horn, selling the biggest piece in an auction. Both horns were filed down to pathetic little nubs, using heated filers, just to squeeze that extra bit of pain from the few neurons that were present in the keratin structures. His legs were shaved to acquire the soft fur which had the same fate as his remaining horn. Long nails were hammered through his hooves straight into the soft tissue above. The act added insult to injury, limiting his movements and implying the Demons Lord was domesticated just like any other animal. They even forced his wings to manifest, large and majestic before being torn away by a series of pulleys drawn by cattle.

Yet, even after all that, Satan Jacob never broke. When he inevitably met his doom, starved and emancipated, facing cheering crowds and the largest bonfire one had ever seen, the Demon Lord had laughed. It was a defiant and mocking laugh, one that continued even as the flames licked against his skin before engulfing him whole.

Their preoccupation with the Demon King allowed Emilia to escape, beaten but not broken.

As she rode away from the human capital, into the realms where humans and demons intermixed in the criminal underbelly of Ente Isla, Emilia held on to that piece of horn he'd given her. It was small, rough and bloody, but precious to her. That was the only thing she had of him now after all. That was all she had out of everyone she cared about.

That day, the Hero swore revenge on all of creation.

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 **So this is basically an AU where, when Satan and Emilia eventually met, they ended up teaming up and the Conquest of Ente Isla turned into a War against Heaven (think like the first episode of 'Maoyuu Maou Yuusha' where the Demon Queen convinced the Hero to work for her). Unfortunately, their alliance fell and both Satan and Emilia were captured, and the oneshot above takes place in the day of their execution and is where the story would start. Emilia, devastated at the demise of her friend-almost-lover, tries at first to isolate herself by becoming a hermit in the woods. However, after an attack by mercenaries looking for the escaped Hero, in which a strange force drove some of them mad and scratching their own skin out, Emilia realizes she has no option but to fight back and ventures into the Demon Realm (aka the Red Mooonn~~). Once there, she tries to recruit demons at first but fails, and the demons who do recognize her either try to kill her or flee as there are rumors she double-crossed the Demon King and lead to his demise.**

 **Disheartened, she takes refuge in a cave, only to be plagued by nightmares of Satan's execution and their torture, and wakes in cold sweat, clutching Satan's broken horn, the only thing she has left from him. Already freaked out from her dream, she freaks out even more when she sees Satan's form stare down at her, equally shocked. After a lot of yelling and a punch that went through an immaterial form, it turns out Satan returned as a ghost, thanks to the horn Emilia carried and the demonic energy permeating the Demon Realm.**

 **From there, using their combined strength which now includes spooky demonic ghost powers. reconciles with Satan's old allies (Alciel, Lucifer, Camio, etc), unites all the Demon tribes and becomes a Demon Queen with the promise for revenge. Somewhere along the way she realizes she won't accomplish anything with revenge, blah, blah, new plan is to take out the Church and built a unifies society for humans and demons (and maybe angels if they behave).**

 **Anyways, Emilia fights her way up from Church clergy (Olba, maybe Bell who is later recruited), to archangels (Sariel, Gabriel, Raquel etc.). She also recruits old allies (Emerada, Albert), maybe even recruits 'new' people (e.g. that whole plot with Alas=Ramus and the Yesod fragments comes in in play and how Emily and Satan had to be killed about their involvement or sth).**

 **Finally, Emilia, in true JRPG Protagonist fashion, ends up killing God/Ignora herself. For a happy ending, peace is established, balance is restored etc. For a happier ending, maybe Emilia, through some necromancy shenanigans and ~true love~ manages to Frankenstein Satan's body and revive him, ending up in a comical scene where Satan stumbles around like a drunk dancer, grumbling about how easy it was to move around as a ghost.**

 **Needless to say, I'd be delighted if anyone wanted to turn this into an actual story. Same goes for all the other drabbles posted here. All I ask is that you give me appropriate credit and also let me know so I can read them and squee** **:P**

 **Feedback is appreciated**


	14. Rule 9

**Rule 9: I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labelled "Danger: Do Not Push". The big red button marked "Do Not Push" will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labelled as such.**

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 **Rule 9**

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The Demon King's Castle stood proud, firmly having rooted itself in the middle of the Central Continent. Despite humanity's bests attempts at cleansing the infernal citadel, the building persisted, pulsing a faint a purple glow against the starry night sky.

The Castle's menacing aura somewhat subsided as a figure, as bright as a star with two brilliant albatross-sized wings, descended to its ruined gate. The glorious white wings retracted as the figure softly landed on the discolored marble. Light seeped into the floor, returning the marble to its former glory, grass daring to grow through the cracks for the first time in centuries.

Gabriel surveyed the landscape and felt a pout form. This used to be a wonderful castle, filled with decorative statues of winged guardians, a reminder of Heaven's providence.

The difference was made all the more prominent as Gabriel wandered through the hallways, past the decaying remains of humans and demons alike. His figure pulsed with an angelic glow, chasing away the darkness and providing a faint light against the Castle's oppressive abyss.

Eventually Gabriel reached a room with an absurdly tall ceiling, one of the walls being made up of stone selves as far up as the eye could see.

A Library. Or at least the pillaged corpse of one, with torn pages littering the floor, volumes upon volumes of encyclopedias, literature, essays having lost their former glory, laying discarded and, in some cases burned.

Gabriel's wings unfurled and he scanned the topmost selves of the library, the higher ones having been left mostly untouched by the destruction.

There, hidden among a heavy and dusty Grimoire, lay a neatly bound stack of handwritten papers. Gabriel tossed away the Grimoire to reveal the contents below. On the top-most paper, made up of a thicker, cover-like material, lay two words in messy handwriting.

 _'_ _Research Notes'_

Gabriel smiled, and his hand reached out for the papers.

His hand passed right through the paper and the object gave a flicker before disappearing entirely.

A large hammer materialized out of nowhere and hit him square in the jaw.

Gabriel flew through the room, then through several rooms, until his fall was broken by a small collection of plants. Desert plants, specifically. Cacti, if Gabriel remembered correctly. It was not the first time something like this had happened in Gabriel's very long existence. And every single time the one responsible had been…

"Lailah, you little-!"

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 **Feedback is appreciated.**


	15. Rule 3

**Rule 3: My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.**

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 **Rule 3**

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Satan Jacob was a mystery, both to human and demon world alike.

For humans, they made up tales of how he was spawned by the Source of Evil, an ancient entity rumoured to single-handedly battle the entirety of Heaven and even deceiving the second archangel in command into becoming a traitor, before being defeated by God themselves. The more outrageous rumours even claimed that Satan Jacob was an incarnation of that ancient entity, as evidenced by his name, Satan (humans, being largely unaware of demon society, did not how common of a name Satan was).

The demon 'nobility' (which in reality was simply a classification of powerful demons since their concepts of society were a tad primitive) was just as puzzled. For eons, they had a stable power structure which they maintained by strategically pitting demons of different tribes against one another. Occasional hiccups did happen, and there were many cases of backstabbing, betrayals and intrigue. However, they did not expect an unknown young demon taking down each commander of all the demon-held regions and then coalescing his influence into the title of Overlord.

They had kept close watch of prominent demon families who displayed strong magical ability. The unknown demon, Satan Jacob, did not have any connection with any of these families or any other known demon family in general. It was as if he had appeared out of thin air, not to even mention the support he had behind him. Most noble demons believed the rumours of the first fallen angel, Lucifer, to be nothing more than figments of imagination, invented by lowly goblin demons as superstitions. The fact that the new Demon King invoked the name of the First Great Demon Lord, Satan, only added insult to injury.

Even with the aforementioned display of power, the nobility still tried to manipulate the young Demon King. First, they started by digging through his friends and family, the latter of which they found none. As for the former, all of the new Demon King's acquaintances were either too powerful or already members of clans they had pre-existing alliances with. Apart from Alciel, who was already a rather successful and powerful general and appeared to be the Satan's right hand man, the Demon King had no friends to speak of.

In the end, any plans they could have made would never come to fruition. Some were swayed by the power and authority the new King commanded. Some went missing, never to be seen again. Two attempted an assassination plot and were executed by the King himself, on a gory fashion that sent the hordes of commoner demons cheering for more blood.

After a tumultuous early reign, it was clear that the new Demon King was a force to be reckoned with. He was popular, instituting changes in economic, political and social matters that made the Demons Kingdom thrive. It was all going as the Demon King wanted.

After all, Satan Jacob had to have an ironclad rule if his plans where to come to fruition.

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 **Feedback is appreciated.**


	16. Rule 26

**Rule 26: No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.**

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 **Rule 26**

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The realization came to him as Emilia slammed the door to their lowly abode, her stomping footsteps echoing in the night. His heart ached, here was a lump in his throat and his hands were clammy.

It was unfortunate, Maou repeated for what felt the umpteenth time in his head.

He had missed all the signs. How he had warmed up to her presence, how he looked at her smiling face and his own lips turned up in response.

Perhaps a major reason of why he missed said signs was because the whole thing was so _new_ to him. Maou wasn't inexperienced, certainly not when it came to the physical aspect, but all such occurrences were… superfluous and fleeting. None held any deep emotional connection; all were brief common agreements in desire for pleasure for both parties involved and absolutely fine in Satan Jacob's book. None were supposed to last and none did.

This time however… Maou _wanted_ her. He wanted to wake up next to her, eat lunch to her, listen to her complain about her day. He wanted to see her determined eyes every day, smell the strawberry perfume she always wore and run his hand through the long pink hair.

Needless to say, he wanted _other_ things as well, but these were for after, after all of the above was the norm for him. He could imagine Emilia, due to her uptight human upbringing wasn't of the type to start with the physical aspect, so Maou would have to take it slow in that regard.

In summary, Maou lusted after the Hero.

This couldn't possibly end well.

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 **Feedback is appreciated.**


	17. Rule 10

**Rule 10: I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum — a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.**

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 **Rule 10**

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Yakuza, they were called. Thugs who thought that just because they could scare a measly human, they were hot shit or something equally unimportant.

Maou had first come across them when he desperately needed some extra cash. However, he never actually made any deals with them, as their loan rates were exorbitant and the Demon King had later gotten his stable part-time job at McRonalds. Their meeting had been awkward at start, since Maou's Japanese was atrocious at the time. Still, Maou and Alciel had acquired some money by giving them some useless decorations from their uniforms -much to Alciel's protests- as well as some minor favors -intimidating a random target, collecting protection money etc.

Apparently, Maou had been good at those minor favours, because last week he got approached by a smug bastard, probably a low-level thug who'd let the newfound power go to his head. He had gone on about 'opportunities' and 'good graces' while turning his nose up at Maou, like the world's smuggest job recruiter. Maou had dismissed him, saying in no uncertain terms that he had cut ties and was not to be contacted again. The thug, muttering about disrespect and whatnot, had gotten violent, but Maou had sent him packing with a broken nose – even with his pathetically weak human form, Maou could fight smart and dirty, forced to by years of being a scrawny goblin level demon.

Maou thought he had made his position crystal clear, but after watching many police dramas and yakuza films, there was a worry that these assholes wouldn't leave him alone -as if the Demon King didn't already have enough in his plate.

Case-in-point, Maou had spied another fidgety man lurking around McRonald's yesterday -a brief glimpse of a tattoo under his shirt had tipped him off- but he ignored him. Maou wouldn't bother them unless they bothered him.

Later that night, Chiho's mother had called him about her daughter not returning home and not answering her phone.

A few minutes later, while Maou was double-checking that Lucifer wasn't back on his bullshit -a process that involved a lot of cracked knuckles and threat of cancelling their internet connection- a rock with a letter attached to it broke through their window.

The note read that Chiho had been abducted, that she would be returned in pieces over the week, and that worms like Maou should know their place.

Maou wondered if his own anger could fuel his magic, for he felt a certain cackling bloodthirstiness surge upon reading each word.

Luckily for them, Lucifer had a tracker planted in Chiho's bag which had revealed the location they held her hostage, a small abandoned warehouse on Tokyo's suburbs. It was one of the rare moments Maou was genuinely grateful to the fallen archangel.

That was why Maou was standing over a bloody -but still alive- pile of humans while Alciel hefted an unconscious but unharmed Chiho over his back.

"My lord," Alciel began.

" **Leave** ," echoed Maou's voice. He hadn't transformed into his true form -these scumbags didn't deserve to witness it- but his magic seeped through glowing red eyes and superhuman strength and elegance. " **I will make sure they do not bother us again**." He paused. " **And make sure you return the car and dispute any extra fees. Rentals are such a scam…** "

Alciel obeyed with a bow and exited the warehouse. Maou stood still over the writhing mass of men until he heard a car engine come to life and eventually fade away.

They had put up a good fight, considering they were humans. However, Maou had some demonic magic stored away, and they lost the moment they witnessed Maou take a bullet to the head and laugh, their resulting dread acting as more fuel for his magic.

" **You have made some very bad choices, gentlemen."** Maou slowly circled the fallen men, red eyes examining each twitching limb, ready to crush them did any of them even attempt to get up. " **It seems I have to make my intentions _crystal clear_.**"

The fear they were giving him made Maou tipsy, as if he'd been gorging in an expensive French champagne.

"Oni…" a man whispered with a bloody cough.

" **Not quite,** " Maou said with a smile. " **But close enough as far you apes are considered.** "

Maou stopped and placed his hands behind his back in a business-like manner. He couldn't allow them to live, and if he wanted to get the Yakuza off his tail and not try to avenge their fallen comrades, Maou would have to get _creative_.

" **Tell me…"** Maou began slowly, pausing to let his tongue trail over his teeth, purposefully slowing down at his sharp canines. His smile widened at the ensuing pulses of fear, each one like a sip of century-aged red. " **Have you ever wondered what your own intestines would taste like?** "

As the pathetic wenches let out scared squeals and desperate pleads for mercy, Maou couldn't help but let out a dark chuckle.

Their fear would sustain him for months.

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 **Feedback is appreciated.**


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